أفــــــول Fading

أفــــــول

تُرى
أين ستذهب هذه الحمامة ....؟
حين يشيب جناحاها
ويشيخ منها الهديل
هل تلوذ بمرايا العصافير الفتية
لتسقط في الوهم
أم أن نافذة صماء
ستمنحها فرصة للغناء...؟
كيف ستعتذر
لسائح يفلح في تمشيط ريشها
حين يفرّ السرب
كيف لها
أن تتهادى في الساحة
او تتمادى في اغواء العشب ...؟
هل ستفتش عن ولد صالح
يطحن لها حبّة القمح
لتأكل
او عاشق قديم
يطارحها ماتقادم من وله
ربما
ستقاسم أرملة
حزنها
والقفص المعدني
وقد تمتهن النواح
في مآتم الطيور
ترى
اين تذهب هذه الحمامة ...؟
حين يمنحها الشجر
عشاّ خفيضا
وجيران لايحفلون بتأريخها
 

Fading

Imagine
where this dove will go
when her wings turn grey
when her call grows old.
Will she turn to the mirrors of young sparrows
to slide into delusion,
or will a deaf window offer her a perch to sing?
How will she apologise to a traveller
wanting to stroke her feathers
when the flock scatters?
How will she strut through the courtyard
or impress the grass?
Will she look for a kind boy
to grind her a grain of wheat
or an old flame
to relight ageing passions?
Perhaps she will divide her sadness
between a window and a metal cage.
Perhaps she'll become a professional mourner
at the funerals of birds.
Imagine
where this dove will go
when the trees donate her their lowest branch
and when neighbours are indifferent to her past.
 

This poem was a real pleasure to translate, largely because of the simplicity of Abboud al Jabiri’s language and the way in which the poem, in a very understated, delicate way, elaborated upon a single image, that of an ageing dove.

Fades

Wonder
Where will go this dove
When her wings be gray
And her coo grew old
Is she resort to the mirrors of the young sparrows?
And downfall in illusion
Or a deaf window will give her a chance to sing?
How can she apologise to a tourist prospered to combing her feathers,
When the flock flee
How it's possible to sway in the courtyard
Or persist to lure the grass?
Is she will seeks for a good boy
To grind a seed of wheat,
To eat
Or an old lover
Share with her the aged passion
Possibly
She will divide with a widow
Her sadness
And the metallic cage
Or may be
Keep wailing in the birds funerals,
Wonder
Where would go this dove?
When the tree donate her a low nest
And neighbours don't care about her past.
 

Original Poem by

Abboud al Jabiri

Translated by

Worod Musawi with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Arabic

Country

Iraq